I’ve been looking at pornography

I mean the other stuff,
(Which maybe should also be banned on account of its debilitating effects – see below – but which is at least a little less obviously vile and offensive.)

Hotel Chocolat sent me a brochure that made me drool and slaver: I wanted to have those chocolates, to own them and taste them and gorge upon them until I was sick. I could imagine the sensation of that delicious chocolatey goodness melting on my tongue, the little touches of cream, or nuttiness, oh, dark pleasures, smooth pleasures, mmmm… Feel it, want it, need it.

That oversweet muck masquerading as chocolate that peeps at you by shop tills, that cheap and tawdry rubbish I can handle. I can ignore it, content in the knowledge that it will yield me no satisfaction, but only sickiness, disappointment and consequent self-loathing.

But this. Oh, so hard to turn away. Hardcore. Gimme, gimme, gimme.

Ahem.

I do have the strength to resist these marketeers and their deceitful insinuations that my life will somehow be better, more fulfilling, more worthwhile if only there were more decent chocolate in it.